


Power

by rosweldrmr



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 15:49:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1716116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosweldrmr/pseuds/rosweldrmr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s gotten what he wanted. Jackson finally knows who the alpha is. He finally acknowledged that Derek has all the power. And that’s all he ever wanted. He hadn’t meant for it to go this far. But force, humiliation, supplication is all Jackson knows. The only thing he respects is this. Not money, not authority, not even physical strength. There is nothing that would have convinced Derek he was capable of being in a pack, capable of following orders other than this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Power

"Is this what you wanted?" Derek coos, soft and sweet, a mockery of his hands gripped like vices around Jackson's wrist. He holds him against a crumbling, burnt-out wall of his childhood home while he fucks him raw from behind.

"No," Jackson cries, a soft ghost of a thing. There are tears on his cheeks and Derek can't bring himself to care.

"You fucking love it,” Derek tells him, and means it.

“Please,” Jackson whines, but there is a softness to it, an unspoken ‘yes’ that trails in the heated space between them. Derek knows because he can _smell_ how much Jackson wants it.

“You want to be a monster?” Derek asks as he jerks his hips up, and the slap of flesh as Jackson’s ass slams into Derek’s groin is obscene.

“No.”

“What _did_ you want?” Derek takes a fistfull of Jackson’s hair, smearing product and sweat against his palm, and yanks Jackson’s head to the side. Derek grows his fangs and carefully grazes them over Jackson’s racing pulse point.

And Jackson wails. A terrible, desperate, keening cry as Derek scrapes his canines down the hollow of his throat. He’s a fucking mess. Shaking and sweating and crying. And he pulls against Derek’s grip, which even with only one hand is more than enough to keep him from breaking free.

Derek peers around Jackson’s body on his next upthrust. The swollen dark head of Jackson’s cock rocks with the force of Derek’s thrusts. But with Jackson unable to free his hands, and the distance between the wall that Derek is using to bend him over leaves Jackson painfully untouched.

“Tell me,” Derek whispers, his tongue mapping the shell of Jackson’s ear and releases his hair. He moves his hand down to hover, painfully, just out of reach of Jackson’s erection. And Jackson bucks his hips, trying to reach the friction of Derek’s hand that he wants so badly. But all he succeeds in doing is driving himself crazy.

“Power,” Jackson answers him, finally, his eyes squeezed shut. He’s fighting through the tears and tremors that threaten to overtake him.

“I’ll show you power,” Derek tells him, like it’s some great confession and allows the hot palm of his hand to just barely touch the head of Jackson’s cock. “This is power, making someone beg for what you could easily give,” Derek instructs and pulls his hand away.

And true to form, Jackson begs. He is past pride now, past want, past desperate. He is frantic, almost feral. “Please, please. Derek. Please.” He strains forward and when that works he moves his hips so that Derek can feel himself move inside him.

There is a moment where Jackson manages to find that spot he’s looking for and he moans and shoves backwards, driving Derek deeper inside of himself. “Fuck,” Derek mutters because he’s never had someone fuck themselves with his dick before. But Jackson is so eager Derek nearly feels bad when he pulls back, almost completely out of him. Then he remembers what a self-loathing, narcissist little shit Jackson is, and he doesn’t feel so bad anymore.

Jackson was the one that came to him, asking for the bite, begging for it. And Derek could smell that toxic mixture of fear and arousal that Jackson perpetually had in his presence. And it was too much. Too much to deny himself, too much to deny either of them. Jackson had been half hard by the time Derek maneuvered him against a wall.

“You’re such a good boy,” Derek tells him and resumes his pace. “What would you do, what would you give just for me to jerk you off?” he asks softly, that same ghost of affection that haunts him. “I bet those little high school boys don’t fill you up like this.”

Jackson lets out a bone-rattling groan that drives Derek wild. “How many little dicks have been in this ass?” Derek asks, but Jackson doesn’t respond. He just shakes his head. “Answer me,” Derek instructs him, growing his nails just long enough to inflict pain, but not break skin.

“None. None. No one’s ever fucked me. Just you, just you. Only you, Derek,” Jackson answers, a string of words that aren’t nearly as meaningful as the way he says them. “Please, Derek, please. Touch me. Please. I’ll do anything. Anything.” He’s begging now, and Derek has to slow himself down because the sound of it, the pleading in his voice, the way he bends over even father, asking for more, it’s almost too much. Derek grimaces and finally relents.

He’s gotten what he wanted. Jackson finally knows who the alpha is. He finally acknowledged that Derek has all the power. And that’s all he ever wanted. He hadn’t meant for it to go this far. But force, humiliation, supplication is all Jackson knows. The only thing he respects is this. Not money, not authority, not even physical strength. There is nothing that would have convinced Derek he was capable of being in a pack, capable of following orders other than this.

Derek growls, letting his animal side take over. And in just a few seconds, he’s released Jackson’s hands and has him bent at the waist. Jackson braces his hands on the wall; he couldn’t touch himself if he wanted to, otherwise he’d get a face full of wall. But that’s okay because Derek’s taking care of him. All at once he fucks him and reaches around to tug on the heated skin of his neglected cock.

Jackson’s cry is shrill and satisfying. Derek’s timed it perfectly. He can feel his own orgasm on the rise. Those last few thrusts he snarls and leans forward, teeth bared.

The bite is a surprise to Jackson. He screams, not in pleasure, probably not even in pain, but in shock. Derek tastes blood and releases his side so he can finish his last, few thrusts. It only takes a handful more before his head rolls back to meet his shoulders and his eyes swing shut. He can feel Jackson’s blood on his chin as lights dance in the darkness behind his eyelids.

He weakly holds Jackson steady while he grunts and jerks his hips as his come fills Jackson. Derek doesn’t even notice the unsatisfied whimper Jackson releases now that he’s stationary enough to reach down and touch himself.

Derek’s skin is hot and cold as the heat of his orgasm subsides leaving the cool night air to rush in and chill him. He can feel his cock slowly growing soft and slipping from Jackson’s ass. Meanwhile, Jackson pumps his fist furiously, his eyes shut, biting his lower lip in concentration keeping up a constant string of ‘ah ah ah ah’.

Derek can see the frustration growing in Jackson’s furrowed brow. He’s so close, he’s right on the edge of that plateau, but he can’t seem to fall.

“Are you close?” Derek asks.

Jackson mumbles a needy “yes”.

Derek takes pity on him and leans in, the cooling sweat on his chest making a squishing sound as he presses himself flat against his back. He can practically feel Jackson’s heartbeat against his ribcage.

“Come,” Derek tells him, softly, lovingly, gently. Then, with all the force, with as much command as he has, he snarls, “Come now, Jackson.”

And Jackson does as he’s told. His mouth hangs open in the abortive “Ughhhhhhhhh” that dies in his throat as milky, white come shoots in crisscrosses down the charred wall of the old Hale house. Jackson fucks his own hand, drawing out the last tendrils of pleasure as he can.

When he’s done, when Derek can physically see the change in him from mindless pleasure to the raging pain of the bite, he laughs.

“You’re gonna be a great beta,” Derek says and slaps the back of Jackson’s neck. But he’s already crumpling over, curling up around himself. When he cries now, he looks more like the child he is than the man he wishes he was. Derek knows the look, he recognizes it. He’s intimately familiar with it.

Derek wipes the slowly crusting come from his flaccid dick before he tucks himself back into his pants. He leaves Jackson there, pants at his ankles, shirt torn down the side and ripped at the collar.

It’s colder than he thought, when he walks outside. The not-yet-full moon hangs heavy in the sky, pregnant with power as it continues on its cresting cycle.

When Derek goes back a few hours later, Jackson’s managed to pull his jeans up. But there is ash and come smeared on his hands and face. He’s burning up, and Derek knows the best way to cool him down. He carries him to the river cradled against his chest.

Jackson shivers and lets out the most pitiful little whining noises Derek’s ever heard. So he inclines his head to whisper, “Shhhh now. It’s okay. I’ve got you,” while he walks. It seems to do the trick because he’s stopped crying by the time Derek’s barefeet touch the freezing water. “Come find me when you wake up,” Derek tells him and places him softly into the flowing water.

He props him up against a large boulder. He won’t drown, Derek’s sure of that. But when he’s more coherent he’ll try to stand and end up submerged in the freezing water. That should be enough to do the rest.

Derek almost hates to leave him there all alone. He can already feel the pull in his chest for the new pup. They are connected now. Blood and power and the call of the hunt. They will find their way back together soon. For now, Derek leaves him in the dark.

 

**Author's Note:**

> beta by the lovely teenwolvesohmy


End file.
